


Waited On the Thunder

by whalefairyfandom12



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Coda, Gen, Post-Episode: s13e21 Beat the Devil, a very late coda, but better late than never
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 11:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14543277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalefairyfandom12/pseuds/whalefairyfandom12
Summary: “How are you doing?” Castiel asks.Sam shrugs. “I’m trapped in an apocalypse world with the devil.”“Point taken.”“I mean,” Sam turns to look at him and there’s something searching in the movement. “You know what it’s like. Being possessed by Lucifer.”





	Waited On the Thunder

     Considering the decade or so Castiel has spent with the Winchesters, it shouldn’t come as a shock when a bloodied but very much alive Sam stumbles into the camp with Lucifer in tow. Somehow, despite the number of times they’ve all been resurrected the man’s return still takes him by surprise.

      The last time he’d seen Sam he was limp in the grip of a vampire and being torn to pieces. He was past dead, and almost mutilated beyond recognition. The sickening sounds of ripping flesh echoed down the caves, and the ground underneath Castiel’s feet had been washed in blood. Yet somehow, here he is.

    Dean has gone completely still. His grip loosens on his gun, lips parting in disbelief. “Sammy?” he says, voice cracking on the second syllable. There’s a pause, and then the brothers are colliding in a hug, Mary close behind. Castiel swallows past the lump in his throat, guilt warring with relief. He clenches his blade tighter, the cool metal digging into his palm. Sam's alive, but the blood caked shirt is proof that he hasn't always been--has probably been dead for the last day and a half.

    “This is all very touching,” Lucifer interrupts. “But I’m here for my boy.” Castiel can feel Jack tense beside him, and he moves to shield him from view. He's already lost him once, he won't let Lucifer take someone else away.

    “I’m not your son,” Jack says, hands fisting at his sides. “You killed Castiel. You hurt Mary, Sam, Dean.” He takes a step forward, eyes narrowing. “My _real_ family.”

    “I admit I’ve made some...short sighted mistakes, but I’m here now. You and me kid. Together at last.” Lucifer smiles, the gesture sickly sweet. 

    “Kill him,” Dean snaps. Without hesitation Jack raises his hand, Gabriel and Mary moving to flank him.

    “Wait!” The archangel throws his hands in the air, and Jack hesitates. “You need me. I’ve faced Michael before and I can do it again. I’m your best shot at taking him down.”

     Castiel tips his head to the side, frowning. “Didn't you lose the last time you 'faced him?' I think we’ll manage."

    “I didn't--he caught me by surprise, but this time I'm prepared." Silence. Lucifer rolls his eyes. "I brought Sammy here back. Which wasn’t easy I might add. Lots of blood.” He shudders theatrically. “You owe me a conversation, at least.”

    Castiel’s frown deepens. He glances in Dean’s direction, the other man returning his look with a scowl. 

     "One hour," Jack says, taking him by surprise. He's studiously avoiding making eye contact, but there's a cautious curiosity burning in his expression that Castiel doesn't like. "And then I'll kill you myself."

* * *

    He finds Sam sitting outside one of the cabins. Dean and the others are locked in another seemingly endless argument over Lucifer inside, but the younger Winchester had disappeared halfway through the conversation.

    Sam sits hunched on the front stairs, gaze far away and distant. Castiel lingers, observing him silently. Unbidden the memories surface again, flipping through like a slideshow he can’t pause.

    Maggie’s screams and Dean’s cry of surprise as the first vampire strikes. Sam, pinned against the wall while teeth digs into his flesh deep enough to sever the tendon. Dean, shouting for his brother as blood gushes from Sam’s artery and splatters against the walls. And always Castiel, too little too late and never fast enough.

    “I’m so sorry Sam.”

    Sam glances up, alarm fading to confusion once he realized who it was. “For what?”

   Castiel swallows. Sam’s skin is smooth, intact, but if he focuses hard enough he can see the scarring where Lucifer’s grace had half-heartedly started to heal his injuries. “I thought you were dead. I _told_ Dean you were dead, and I left you there. I should’ve come after you sooner. I’m sorry.”

   Sam’s expression softens incrementally. “They got the jump on all of us, Cas,” he says. “And there were more waiting. Even Lucifer could barely keep them away. It wasn’t your fault.”

    Castiel could still remember the first time he’d met Sam. Uriel had warned him--told him Lucifer’s vessel was an abomination unworthy of their attention, and there was a time Castiel had believed him without question. Of course, Uriel had failed to mention the man’s kindness; or his empathy, or willingness to forgive. Even when Castiel didn’t deserve it.

    (Especially when he didn’t deserve it.)

    “How are you doing?” he asks.

    Sam shrugs. “I’m trapped in an apocalypse world with the devil.”

    “Point taken.”

    “I mean,” Sam turns to look at him and there’s something searching in the movement. “You know what it’s like. Being possessed by Lucifer.”

    Castiel drops his head, watching a beetle scuttle across the steps. “I do. It was...unpleasant to say the least.” Jimmy’s words had come back to him during his possession ( _it’s like being strapped to a comet_ ) and not for the first time he wished he could change what happened with the Novaks.

    Sam is shaking his head, disgust curling his mouth. “I brought him back here. Now he knows where Jack is and he’s never going to stop.”

    “He was never going to stop,” Castiel says. “You didn’t have a choice.” He motions at Sam’s arm. “May I?” At the affirmative nod he touches his wrist, reaching out with his grace. He’s still not at full strength and he’s beginning to think he never will be again, but he has enough left to do this. He releases Sam a moment later, and this time when he looks the scarring has vanished.

    “Thanks man.” Sam claps him on the shoulder, climbing to his feet. “I don’t blame you,” he says seriously. “Dean doesn’t either.”

    Castiel opens his mouth; whether to refute or confirm he doesn’t know, but Sam gives him a knowing look before opening the cabin door and disappearing inside. He sighs, lacing his fingers together and closing his eyes. There’s a coolness to the air that had been absent before, and he rubs his hands together absentmindedly.

    Life goes on.


End file.
